Lawrence High School - Diary Yearbook (Fairfield, ME)

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LAWRENCE DIARY Now it covered my whole body. As a nebula became clear, I remembered. We, the younger generation, were supposed to guard our glorious country. But now, how could we! It was then that I saw it, a beautiful chariot drawn by six white horses and an escort of Angels. B. A. RICHARDS. i..i-ii1.i- MONSIEUR MOUSE Monsieur Mouse was granted the title Monsieur because of nis out- standing contribution to the town of Miceville. To make the story clear, the reader mus-t take a trip back to Monsieur Mouse's birthplace. Born in the grey light of the early morning, in that little hole in the wall which he was later to leave forever, Monsieur Mous-e was no different from his six little grey squirming brothers who cuddled together for warmth and emitted such faint squaking noises. As they grew, Monsieur Mouse kept aloof from his brothers and' was more interested in remaining close to the grownups and listening in as they discussed the food problem and the Cat Menace. As Monsieur matured into a half grown youth, he was quite a dandy. His sleek, grey-black coat, tiny ears, and black sparkling eyesi made him a ladies' favorite. So, for a time, Monsieur Mouse forgot his seriousness and interest in the grown-up affairs as he romped and fr-olicked with his fellow youths, and courted the various female mice. I-Ie was particularly interested in Miss Fanny Mouse, whose brown vel- vety coat was the envy of all the common grey-coated ladies. But as Mon- sieur Mouse wooed and won her, he discover-ed that there was a great dif- ficulty to be faced. She had declared that before sh-e would marry him, he must perform some outstanding feat for Miceville. So Monsieur Mouse set forth to the Mayor of Miceville who told -him that the town needed' someone who would be willing to go to the foreign land, Pasture, and find out wla-ether or not homes couldg be established there without the Cat Menace or any of those ingenious houses called traps Monsieur Mouse set forth. Leaving the friendly precincts of Miceville, h-e scurried across the intervening yard to the gates where he met Am- bassador Field Mouse who accompanied him to the possible future site of Miceville. No cats ? he quizzed, No traps? No, replied Ambassador Field Mouse, only an occasional owl. Monsieur Mouse established his quarters in the very center of the mea- dow where he proposed to spend the rest of the spring and summer, return- ing in the fall with the report to Miceville. But fate took a hand. Mr. Farmer was heard to say to his sons, Boys, we'll plow the back field this spring. 15

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LAWRENCE DIARY WHAT WILL THERE BE TO GUARD? fWho will be left to guard it?J Pushing, struggling, stumbling against other people, all of us gasping for breath. We had no notion where we were going. We wanted to get away from the thing that had destroyed .all we had ever known. They said it couldn't happen to us. They said we were a safe nation, we of the United State-s. Now what was happening? Who could understand? Why were We being driven from destroyed homes, homes that had been de- stroyed by the very same planes that were now showering us with bombs? Over half of us were kill-ed on that last dive into the mud-Hlled ditch. Suddenly, I knew it was no use to run any more-. I didn't say anything to anyone. What Was the use! I silently edged away from the nearest person. The planes had disappeared. The other people got up and collected their belongings. Some still had their children, and some didn't. And some still had th-eir husbands or Wives and some didn't. No one thought of me lying quietly hidden. My parents had been sent to their Maker when our home was shelled. The barn was still standing. I slipped from my hiding place and raced down the road in a staggering trot. I went back to our destroyed farm. Yes, they had dared to destroy our farm. Only the barn remained standing. The barn, that was where I must go. I must get to the barn! Thank God the door was open. I went in and fell on the hay. I started to think of what had happened. What was it that I was sup- posed to remember? My mother had told me we were safe, no one would dare make war against us. We w-ere a free and democratic nation. Liberty stood at every hand. Out of the night, Without warning, a squad of planes had come winging over our house. I awoke to find' myself all in a living day-dream of the war in Russia or China. Death falling, ever falling around us, missing me by inches. It did not miss my parents. lThey both died trying to reach my bedside. The walls became a living flame. Smoke filled my lungs as I sat on my bed, terrified beyond explaining. The window fell ou-t by my head. I had, fortunately, .climbed from that window on summer mornings. I slept on the ground floor. I used to wash my face and hands in the brook about 300 feet from my bed. I had literally fall-en out that same window and stood watching my dear father and mother burn in that blazing inferno. I had started to run as fast as my pudgy legs could carry me. Then for the first time, I guess, I vwoke up when I felt other people pushing me. It was singular, odd perhaps because we still believed that it wasn't happen- ing. Oh yes, it was real enough, but were we awake? All this I thought as I lay on the hay. I still couldn't think of what I was supposed' to remember. Somewhere in my back I felt a pain. It grew. 14

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LAWRENCE DIARY One morning Monsieur Mouse stepped outside his humble dwelling and marvelled at the blue of the sky and the fresh clean air. Ah, he breathed, throwing out his sleek grey chest, They'll see. I told them nothing could happen here. Suddenly, he saw a huge shadow fall over him, a gleam of bright. steel above him. In sudden anguish, he saw keenly what he should have seen before. How could I tell- Just a gasp-and Alas! Monsieur Mouse was no more. It is said that the fur of Miss Fanny Mouse turned white over night at the shock of his death. At any rate, if you should go to Miceville today you would probably en- counter this gracious lady in white, who would tell you the story just as I have told it to you. DORA A. HORAN. THE HORSE SWAPPING The old cattle truck rattled and bumped over the decayed country road. It shook its two occupants until their false teeth rattled. I don't see why ya cum away out here in the first place. Thet thievin' Vantile lot will shore lay ya out for a pretty penny afore ya get hum, said Daniel. Here we air. Hang on! 1'm agoin' ta use the brakes. .So saying and acting at the same time, Dub did use his brakes. Daniel flew -out the space where the door was supposed to be, but wasn't. Vantil-e, the man who usually skun people before he was through with them, scrambled out the open doorway. He went over to Dub's truck fwhere Dub was just getting outj and then and there the argument started over two horses. Well, I can't give ya all thet boot, Dub said, scratching his head and stepping from one foot to the other. But, she's a good hoss. Ya can't find a better one in the whole count- try, Vantile argued. Vantile was a sort of horse jockey. 'Ilhat is, he was always swapping horses when he could get the best of the bargain. Dub said, I'1l tell ya what I'll do. I'll trade the mare -even fer that colt. If she's as good as ya say she is, she's sure a rip-snorterf' Is thet mowin' machine ye gut out ta your place any good ? Vantile asked. She sure is, Dub came 'back With. We've used 'er ever since Cecil was knee high to a grasshopper. Well, let's see, Cecil must be 'bout twelve or thirteen ain't 'e- Vantile question. 16